The Dying Soldier

It was just after the battle of― where hundreds of brave men had fallen and hundreds more were wounded, that a soldier came in haste to the Chaplain’s tent and said, “Chaplain, one of our boys is badly wounded, and wants to see you at once.” “Hurriedly following the soldier,” says the Chaplain, “I was taken to the hospital, and led to a bed upon which lay a noble young soldier. He was pale and blood-stained from a terrible wound above the temple. I saw at a glance that he had but a few hours to live upon earth. Taking his hand I said, ‘Well, my brother, what can I do for you?’ The poor dying soldier looked up in my face, and placing his finger where his hair was stained with his blood, he said, ‘Chaplain, cut a big lock from here for mother―for mother, mind, Chaplain!’ I hesitated to do it. He said, ‘Don’t be afraid, Chaplain, to disfigure my hair. It’s for mother, and nobody will come to see me when I am dead tomorrow.’ I did as he requested me. ‘Now, Chaplain,’ said the dying man, ‘I want you to kneel down by me and return thanks to God.’ ‘For what?’ I asked. ‘For giving me such a mother. O Chaplain, she is a good mother; her teachings comfort and console me now. And, Chaplain, thank God that by His grace I am a Christian. Oh, what would I do now if I wasn’t a Christian? I know that my Redeemer liveth. I feel that His finished work has saved me. And, Chaplain, thank God for giving me dying grace. He has made my dying bed “feel soft as downy pillows are.” Thank Him for the promised home in glory. I’ll soon be there―there where there is no war, nor sorrow, nor desolation, nor death―where I’ll see Jesus, and be forever with the Lord.’ I knelt by the dying man and thanked God for the blessings he had bestowed upon him―the blessings of a good mother, a Christian hope, and dying grace, to bear testimony to God’s faithfulness. Shortly after the prayer he said, ‘Good-bye, Chaplain; if ever you see my mother tell her it was all well!’” SEL.